The Science of BeeKeeping
by sarapals with past50
Summary: Grissom works on his bee project; all fluff, no angst, and a happy ending.


Beekeeping

_A/N: We do not own these characters, CSI or any of CBS. But thanks to the genius of writers, producers, and actors, we all know these characters. On a beautiful spring day, here is a happy story. Thanks for commenting. _

**The Science of Bee Keeping**

Today was one of those perfect late spring days. Flowers were planted and blooming making painted rainbows all over the city. Most people were making the best of this perfect day. Tourists slept late. Night workers headed home thinking they could use a little less sleep today. Others were up early, knowing the sun and heat would become oppressive in a few weeks. Even garbage haulers rolled truck windows down hoping to catch the smell of spring.

His house was empty—no surprise. He would never again enjoy the quiet solitude he had known for years. The dog was gone. They had both grieved in her absence. The dog understood less than he did. 

Today, he wanted to be outside, out of this vacant house which was too quiet, too empty, loneliness seeping from the woodwork. He knew he would not sleep. 

He showered, changed and left quickly. Driving across town in early traffic, he reached the arboretum where the bees waited. 

It had been easy to work with bees while alone. It had been easy finding a thriving, well-informed beekeeper group. They had welcomed him as an enthusiastic scientist and with his knowledge of entomology, no questions asked. The arboretum group had welcomed him for his work in native plant life. In one frenzied afternoon, he had sweated with the grounds crew as they planted native vines, flowers and plants in broad beds which were now showing their red, gold, and white colors. 

The beekeepers showed up with enough bees to pollinate all of Las Vegas. The hives sat in a horse-shoe at the far end of the field. He had spent hours sitting quietly watching the bees come and go, a steady stream of humming from the hives. The bees were healthy. 

He had spent hours on the phone with bee experts around the country. Every dead bee found was brought to him—word of mouth from beekeeper to landscaper to honey-buyer. He stacked them up in small boxes and spent more hours cutting them open, doing bee autopsies. The loneliness did not hurt so much when his hands and mind worked on these things. He had no life. 

As he passed the 'temporary' tent set up to shelter new hives, he could see a white clad figure bent over the hives. He smiled. This was a good day. 

He called out to announce his arrival, but the figure remained bent, moving slowly from one hive to the next. He smiled again. No gloves. 

"You've come a long way, Baby," he said as she stood, stepping away from the hives. 

She pulled the netting from around her hat. "I have. But I still love you." She reached for him as he did for her. "I'm glad you found me." Their lips met. This was why he came here. Days of loneliness had gone. She was back in his arms, in his home, and in his life. The dog lay in the shade of the tent, watching them. This was the way life was supposed to be. 

After she left him—and she did leave him, regardless of what else happened—weeks passed before he could admit to her that he needed her. Phone calls, letters, emails were exchanged but nothing worked until he flew to her, pulled her out of her mother's kitchen, and, with fear in his eyes, asked her to be with him because he needed her. In fifteen minutes, her mother helped her pack, kissed both of them, and waved from her porch as they left. 

The taxi got to the airport before she said, "We need a hotel." They checked into one of those airport chains—he asked for their nicest suite, which ended up being much like all the other rooms, with a king size bed, a super-sized bathroom, and enough pillows on the bed to stuff a dump truck. 

They stayed two nights. Two nights to talk, to make love and to talk again. They returned home. Greg picked them up with Hank in the car. She got in the back seat with the dog jumping all over her. Life was back, better than before. She smiled, she laughed. The dog kept trying to get in her lap. 

She talked to the sheriff. The sheriff agreed to a sabbatical, without pay, yet holding her rank and benefits. He gave her books to read on beekeeping. She finally agreed to go with him to the hives, saying all the time that she didn't like bugs. But she was interested in the science, the research, the collapse of hives. Ever the scientist, she worked on the problem. 

He watched her change. Every morning, she checked the hives. Every day she worked on dead bees. Every day she talked on the phone to scientists, researchers, and beekeepers. . She went to beekeepers meetings. She canceled her sabbatical and turned in her resignation at the crime lab. 

She loved him. He loved her. This was how life went on—better than ever.

_A/N: Short, complete, happy ending. The way life is supposed to be!_


End file.
